Acceptance
by perfectsmuttyvampire
Summary: Hermione and Draco are together. It is a secret. What happens when those they love find out - and take it badly? On the Dramione Awards Archive Community's Master List for 2009.


**_TITLE: Acceptance_**

**_SUMMARY: Hermione and Draco are together. It is a secret. What happens when those they love find out - and take it badly?_**

**_THESE CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS BELONG TO JK ROWLING. I AM MANIPULATING TO SUIT MY OWN TWISTED IMAGINATION._**

**_A/N: Ahh, Dramione. It had to happen people, come on. It's hot. And Draco is far too fit to be left on the sidelines._**

HermionePOV

This is what I live for, having my legs wrapped around his waist, whilst he drives into me, asking me if I like it, if I want him to go faster, and do I want to come? I tangle my fingers in his hair, yanking his head down to mine for a kiss.

"Do you want to come, Princess? Huh? Do you want to come for me?"

"Oh, God, yes!" I moan, throwing my head back, not caring when it crack against the stone wall with rather more force than should be comfortable.

"Come on then, Princess, come for me…let me feel you come round my cock…" He picks up the speed of his thrusts, and I reach down, scraping my nails down his chest. I dig them into his pecs when he brings me to crashing orgasm, and he hisses through his teeth as he joins me.

He replaces me on the floor very tenderly, and then he smoothes my hair, as I brush his back from his forehead. Showing ourselves at dinner with sex-hair wouldn't be indicative to keeping the secret. And the secret must be kept, because even though _we_ know it doesn't matter now, with the war over and Voldemort finally vanquished, that the last thing that should remain is the ridiculous house enmity. When McGonagall took over as Headmistress, she started trying to dispel the system, encouraging inter-house relationships. And whilst all the houses get on with each other, the Slytherin/Gryffindor divide remains as sharp and tense as ever it did. We know what the reactions would be if the Slytherin Prince appeared with the Mudblood third of the Golden Trio. He kisses me very gently, and then smacks me lightly on the ass as I move towards the door and poke my head out. In ten minutes, he will stroll into the Great Hall, looking deliciously calm and unrumpled. But today, I pause before I reach the door.

"Draco, why don't you come with me tonight? We could pretend we'd been studying together."

"Why the sudden sense of urgency?"

"They're going to find out about us soon, we can't hope to hide it forever. Maybe they'd take it better if they came to terms with us as friends first. If we just suddenly start appearing as a couple, it'll be harder to accept." He surveys me.

"You know, Princess, you may just have a point there. Very well, today, we shall stroll into the Great Hall together, exchanging friendly conversation, and then we shall high five each other and go to our tables."

The corridors are empty as we saunter down to the Great Hall for dinner. We take a deep breath before we go in, and start talking about the uses of dragon properties in Potions before we push open the doors and go in. Several heads turn to look at us, and then a whisper sweeps the Hall, and more and more heads turn to see the Head Girls and Boy from two rival houses engaged in a friendly debate about whether heartstring or blood is more effective in the Dragon Repellent Potion and not gouging out each others eyes. We pause for a little while, and then we wrap up the debate.

"Blood is more effective, Draco, and you must see why: if you use blood, you have all the DNA, the hormones, the cellular structure _and_ all the genetic coding. Heartstring is much more complex and requires considerably more preparation."

"You know, Hermione, I think you have a valid point." He holds his hand up, and I high five him before turning away. Half the eyes in the Hall turn to me, the other half to Draco as we depart for our respective tables. Harry and Ron look furious, and I don't dare glance back to see how Draco has been received. As soon as I sit down, the talking begins again. I brace myself, and sit down between Harry and Ron. Ginny smiles at me across the table and mouths "nice" at me.

"Hermione, what the hell are you playing at with Malfoy?" Harry hisses at me. "Have you forgotten who he is?"

"He was cleared of all charges by the full Wizenmagot. Every Death Eater testified that Draco had had nothing to do with any of it. Pass the lamb, please, Ginny?" Harry puffs himself up to yell, but Ron gets there first.

"Oh, so it's Draco now, is it?" he demands, his voice increasing. "Hermione, he's scum. He was on their side, and I don't care what the Wizenmagot says!"

"Ronald, would you kindly keep your voice down?" I snap. "Harry, can you pass the potatoes? And I am perfectly entitled to befriend and speak to whomever I wish, so butt out! Ginny, I'd like the mixed vegetables, please."

"But why him? Out of everybody, why him?"

"Because, Harry, he is one of the few people I can have a conversation with without Quidditch being mentioned! Besides, since when was any of this your business? Pass the gravy, Ron."

"Hermione, he is a Slytherin pureblood. He cannot be trusted!"

"Grow up, both of you! Like I said, I am his friend, he is my friend, and seeing as he is not a narrow minded idiot obsessed with bloodlines, he is good company, he makes me laugh, we don't row every five minutes and he is very interesting, I fully intend for him to remain my friend."

DPOV

I see her long before I reach our tree, her hair whipping round her face in gentle night breeze. There's a slight chill, and her cloak is firmly wrapped around her shoulders. I approach her, and as she turns to face me, I gasp as the moonlight lights her face up. She looks devastatingly lovely. She flies into my arms, resting her head on her chest, and I don't need to be told that she had a hard time with her friends at dinner. Not only because I heard the last few words exchanged between them, after which neither Harry nor Ron dared say another word and contented themselves with glowering at me or Hermione.

"Was that as hard for you as it was for me?"

"I heard them giving you a hard time," I whisper, and hook my finger under her chin to make her look at me. To my horror, her eyes are glittering with unshed tears. "They'll come round to us - at least, they'd better, because I don't plan to let you go anytime soon." She sniffs, and a tear snakes it's way down her cheek.

"Oh, I'm not worried about Harry and Ron. They'll accept you, given time. They just rankle against change, because now Voldemort is dead and gone for good this time, they want to live peaceful lives, devoid of any shocks or surprises. But I do worry about your friends. And because you evaded my question, I know they gave you a very hard time."

"They more or less told me if I don't cut you from my life, I'll no longer be welcome with them." I shrug, trying to make it look like I don't care, but she cries properly now. I stare at her in sheer terror. "Hermione, don't cry! It'll be OK!"

"I didn't think they'd be like this when we started seeing each other!" she sobs. "I didn't want you to lose the people you care about! It wasn't meant to be this hard! You shouldn't have to lose them because of me!"

"Hermione, look at me," I say forcefully, again using a finger to push her chin up. "I don't want them if they're making me chose between you and them. There is a difference: I need you just to breathe, Hermione, I can live without them. I would rather have just you, than all of them, and not you. We both knew when we started this that it wasn't going to be easy." She breathes deeply, and then closes her eyes briefly and drops her face. I can tell she wants a little time. I hold her, letting her sob.

"It isn't fair," she whispers softly.

"No," I agree sadly, rubbing her back. "No, it isn't."

HermionePOV

I wake up before him the next morning and I sit up and watch him sleep. His blonde hair is messy, and his lashes sweep his cheeks. His face is slightly flushed and his breathing is even. He's so beautiful. My mouth pulls down at the corners as I remember last night. I don't want to be the reason why he has to choose. I get up, slowly, so as not to disturb him, and I pad silently into the bathroom. I start the shower, letting hot water unknot the tension in my shoulders. I don't hear the shower door open, don't even know he's there until he runs his fingers through my hair.

"Christ, Draco."

"Sorry, Princess. It's just…I woke up, and you were gone. I don't want to let you out of my sight. This isn't going to be an easy few months."

"I know. But we'll make it through, Draco, I swear. We'll find a way to get through this."

I put my hair up into a clip, leaving a few curls to escape and hang down to frame my face. He takes my hand and pulls me in, kissing me gently.

"Lets go face the music. I doubt it'll get any easier." I frown at his words.

"It should get easier now. They've had a while to come to terms with the fact that we're friends. Let's let them adjust to that before we tell them that we are in fact in a relationship, and we love each other." He smiles sadly. Who are we kidding? This won't get any easier.

We split again at the back of the Hall, going into breakfast, sitting down, glancing at each other. Blaise leans over and says something in his ear. I look down at my plate - cursing Blaise and all the idiocy.

DPOV

"Is she still your friend then?"

"Who's "she," Blaise?"

"You know who I mean. That Mudblood whore."

"_Hermione _is not a whore, Blaise. And are you still spouting pure-blood nonsense?"

"Well, _Malfoy_, I guess I know where your loyalties lie. And would you mind moving? You'll taint my breakfast. Associating with that Mudblood bitch - what would your father say?"

"He knows, Blaise. And as a matter of fact, he approves."

"God, the pureblood families really are falling. The blood-traitor Weasleys, the Blacks, and now the great Malfoy's themselves are happy to associate to Mudblood filth." I feel my temper beginning to rise.

"Blaise, shut up."

"God, look at her, sitting over there, talking to the Weasley girl. What does she think she is? We both know she's nothing better than filth!"

I honestly don't know how it happened. But suddenly, Blaise is looking at my wand - which is pointed directly at his heart.

"Hermione is not filth!" I bellow at him. Half the Hall is turned towards us, and the other half are standing up to get a better look.

"Pretty defensive of your Mudblood friend, aren't you? Or is she a bit more than just your friend? Sullying more than just your name, Draco? Sullying your cock with her too?"

"Blaise, I would advise you to be quiet," a quiet voice breaks in. Hermione is on the opposite side of the table, her wand levelled at Blaise.

"Mr Malfoy! Miss Granger! Mr Zabini!" McGonagall interrupts the tense stand off. Hermione's wand trembles a little, but other than that, she gives no sign that the Headmistress is even present.

"Nobody calls me a whore," she says, her voice deadly calm. I know it's a danger sign. If her voice is like that, the person she is angry with will be lucky to walk away without crying. Blaise will be lucky to walk away at all. "Nobody calls me filth."

"Hermione, perhaps putting down the wand -" I say.

"No, Draco. No. I have had enough. I am sick of being vilified for who my parents are. I am sick of being treated like something to be repressed, simply because my parents are Muggles. I am sick of being ostracised because I am your friend. I am sick of being told you aren't good enough. I am sick of being told I'm not good enough. Give me one good reason, Zabini, why I shouldn't hex you into the middle of next year. Perhaps you should explain to me why I am not good enough for Draco, without stating my parents. You've never even met my parents, but I'm willing to bet I had a happier childhood with Muggles than you did surrounded by magic! So please, Blaise, tell me why I'm not good enough." I've never seen anyone look so beautiful. Her hair is storming around her head, and her eyes are practically shooting sparks. Blaise gapes up at her. Nobody moves. I don't think anybody breathed. Nobody here has ever seen her so angry. Hell, _I've_ never seen her so angry. She's quite sexy… "I thought not. The only "problem" you have with me is my blood. Enough. _Enough_. The war is over, the last thing we need is blood rivalry. It doesn't matter any more. There's no Dark Lord to impress, Zabini. Voldemort is dead. It's over. I will be friends with whoever I _want_ to be friends with. It's over."

It's Harry who defuses the situation. He steps forwards from the crowd, and clears his throat a little nervously.

"Hermione's right. Voldemort is dead. Blood shouldn't matter, but we still let it rule our lives. The past is the past. Perhaps it's time to stop living there." He takes a step towards me and holds out his hand. "Shake?"

"What, you trust me now?"

"I've been a prat, Draco - we both have. And hey, if you're good enough to be a friend of Hermione's, then I'm more than happy to try. Especially seeing as I don't think you're going anywhere. She's got more intelligence than us - and I learned long ago that if Hermione trusts someone enough to call them friend, then they must be good." I grip his hand. A Quidditch players palm, rough and calloused from his broom. We shake on it. Harry glances back at Ron. He looks from Hermione, to me, to Harry, and back to me.

"Sorry," he mumbles. He turns around and walks away, slowly. His shoulders are slumped.

I stroke her hair later that afternoon, lying under our tree in the grounds.

"Well, that could have been worse."

"I told you Harry was a good guy."

"And Ron?"

"He'll come round. Ginny will help. Ron will just be Ron for a little while. Don't forget he thought you were a Death Eater for quite some time, and the Death Eaters are responsible for what happened to Bill."

"How is Bill?"

"Good as ever. Apart from the liking for raw meat, he hasn't changed. Course, it doesn't hurt that he's outrageously handsome. And Ron's never managed to get over Fred's death. He saw it happen. And it happened because we saved you. Not that he blames you. But he still thinks that if we'd been quicker, Fred would have made it. He blames himself." I tighten my grip on her.

"I can't say sorry enough for that. I blame myself. If I hadn't been so stupid…If I could go back, change it, give my life for Fred's…"

"Don't say that, Draco. You did what you had to do. We did what we had to do. Fred would never have forgiven us if we'd left you to die. He knew you were a good person long before any of us saw it." She reaches up and kisses me.

I push her down gently to lie underneath me. She gets one leg free and wraps it round my waist, gazing up at me innocently whilst she "stretches" beneath me. I groan.

"Minx," I growl, lowering my head to feast on her lips. She responds happily, tangling her fingers in my hair and crushing me closer. I reach behind her and yank out the pillows, throwing them to the floor. She gasps as she jerks backwards. I caress her thigh through her school skirt, and she wriggles her hips impatiently. I unbutton her shirt, and she sits up, letting me slide it off her shoulders. I throw it to the floor, and it isn't long before our ties and my shirt joins it. My belt hit's the floor with a clatter and her hands scrabble with the button and zipper on the front of my trousers.

"Draco, please…" she murmurs, wrestling my trousers down my legs. I relent, helping her remove my boxers. I sit back and gaze at her. She's still wearing not only her skirt, but bra, panties, and those damn school-girl stockings. I drag her upright, and she rests her head on my shoulder. I unclasp her bra, and then she pulls away. She slips off the bed, and stands in front of me. She slides the straps of her bra down her shoulders, dropping it on the floor. I swallow. I'm naked before her, and as my cock springs fully to life, she smiles, bending forward to slip one stocking off. She lets it tumble to the floor, removing the other, letting it flutter from her fingers. Then she unwraps her skirt, and then I crack. She's up against a wall, and I ravage her neck, no longer caring about leaving marks, no longer caring about secrecy, wanting the world to know that Hermione Granger is mine, mine to mark, mine to love. I rip her panties away from her and thrust inside. She screams, wrapping legs around my waist, dropping her lips to my shoulder, biting, laving the mark with her tongue. I suck her pulse point, feeling her blood pound below my lips.

"Fuck…Hermione…" I growl, slamming into her. She digs her nails into my back, scrabbling for purchase. I don't care that they will smart tomorrow, that her neck will bruise, that my shoulder will hold an impression of her teeth. I need her, want her, feeling hot, wet tightness encase me, caressing me, clenching around me, getting hotter - or is it me? I hoist her a little in my arms, drive home again, and she screams an explosion of obscenities that would make everybody stare if she did that in public. I bite her ear lobe softly, little nibbles, caressing her breast softly. She gets impossibly tight around me, and the strangled screaming of my name undoes me. We slide to the floor, and I cradle her gently, kissing her, loving her kiss-swollen lips, her neck.

HermionePOV

Everything aches when I wake up. I stretch happily, enjoying the fact that my muscles hurt, that my neck bears marks of ravishing, and my Slytherin prince sleeps beside me with a lazy, half smile on his face, even in sleep. I look at the clock. I wake him gently.

"Draco…Dray, wake up beautiful," I murmur, stroking his face. He catches my hand in his, turning it, pressing a kiss into my palm. He opens his eyes and smiles up at me.

"How are you, precious?" he whispers, pulling me down to be cradled in his strong arms. I snuggle close.

"Achy."

"I'd say sorry - but I'd be lying, and I promised I'd never lie to you." His hand stokes my neck. "I like seeing you marked by me - bearing the marks of passion."

"Thanks," I smile. "But we have to get up - it's the day for Hogsmede, and we need to make sure the little angels get off on time. But I was thinking we could spend the day together. We could go to The Three Broomsticks, get lunch and a drink…"

"You don't want to spend it with Harry, Ron…maybe have a girly chat with Ginny…"

"Ah, well, I was meaning to talk to you. You see, Harry wants to spend an hour or so with you…take you and Ron to The Hogs Head, and talk about everything that's happened. And it was Ron's idea, before you say anything. And please, can you go? It would mean so much to me if you three could get on. And I do need a girly chat with Ginny because - err - I - well, I haven't spoken to her in a while, not just us girls." I wriggle out of his arms and scamper into the bathroom.

Shitshitshit!

Sure enough, he throws open the bathroom door and regards me suspiciously.

"Hermione, you were going to say something there."

"Will you go out with Harry and Ron?"

"What? Oh - yeah. But I'm not talking about that right now. We're talking about whatever you are trying unsuccessfully to hide."

"You aren't going to freak out?"

"That is never a good sentence. Nothing good ever came of starting a conversation with 'You aren't going to freak out'. What? Tell me quick."

"Go and sit down, Dray."

He is sitting on the bed. I take one deep breath. I sit down beside him. I take one of his hands in mine. I look at it whilst I talk.

"You know how you haven't been bothering with a condom because I'm on the Muggle Pill?"

"Oh God…"

"Apparently, it isn't completely fail-safe." I put the hand in my lap on my still-flat tummy. It glows red under his touch. He gapes wordlessly.

"Why is your tummy red?"

"It's a very ancient practice. When two soul mates bond and mate, and the woman becomes pregnant, her tummy will glow red when touched by the soul mate father."

"We're soul mates? That, I know. We both knew that, right from the start. But I never knew about the pregnancy thing. I'm going to be a father?"

"Definitely. In seven months, we'll have a baby. There are practices to tell the sex - if you wanted to know…"

"No," he says firmly. He gazes into my eyes. "I don't want to know. I want it to be a surprise."

DPOV

A horrible thought slams into me over lunch. I gape at her in wordless horror.

"Draco? You OK?" she asks in some alarm.

"What are we going to _say_? People think we're friends for God's sake. Glamour Charms don't hide soul mate pregnancy's."

"We'll just have to tell people. Swear the boys to absolute secrecy, let them know first. Do you want to let your friends know?"

"They aren't my friends, Hermione."

"I'll let Ginny know. She won't say a word, I know Ginny. And the staff will have to know. You tell McGonagall, and I'll tackle Snape. They can tell the rest of the staff."

"Why do I have to tell McGonagall?"

"Because if you told Snape, he'd nail your balls to the door. You know how pointlessly protective he is of me, ever since he hauled me from Voldemort's grip."

"Fair enough. As for the rest of the school - well, we'll cross that bridge later."

I meet Harry and Ron not without some trepidation. I'm barely friends with them, and now I have to tell them that I've managed to get the woman they look upon as their sister pregnant.

"Hey, Draco," a voice calls from the door. I slide over in the booth. Ron even manages to smile at me.

"Hey." The silence is awkward.

"Drinks," Harry announces, jumping to his feet and making what seems like a relieved escape to the bar. Ron meets my eyes.

"Sorry I was such a prick to you," he says. I open my mouth, but he shakes his head. "No, I need to say this. Ginny talked to me last night, and Bill even apparated and walked up. George stuck his head in the fireplace. They made me realise that nothing that happened during the war was the fault of anyone but Voldemort and his most dedicated - and you fell into neither of those categories. I'm not blind, Draco - I've noticed a difference in Hermione - and I saw it that day you announced you were friends. She's _happy_ - and she hasn't been truly happy since the War. Did she tell you about her parents? She never forgave herself for what she had to do to them and took their death very badly. But you gave her _happiness_, Draco. And I'm getting the feeling you are more than just her friend." He grins at me. "And I wanted you to know that I approve."

"As do I," Harry interrupts. He puts a pint glass of something odd-looking in front of me. I look at it. "It's a Muggle drink. It's alcoholic. Called cider. Made with apples. It's nice." I take a sip. He's right. "And as Hermione has no older brother to tell you, we will: if you hurt her, I will personally rip your balls off, roast them, and hand them to you on a plate."

"It isn't possible for me to hurt her, Harry." I take a breath. "I have something to tell you. And I'm rushing into things. I said I'd do this properly. Get to know you both. But I can't - I need you both to know. Hermione and I - we are more than friends. We're soul mates." Harry snorts a mouthful of cider out his nose and chokes. Ron bangs him on the back, and motions for me to continue. "You both know what that means?" Ron nods, and Harry does too, tears streaming down his face, still spluttering. He manages to cough out a charm to clear his nose and windpipe. "I can't hurt her - because we'd both die. And there is a lot more, but you can find that out yourselves."

"I get the feeling you're holding back." Harry says, looking at me sternly.

"She's also pregnant…"

"Excuse me?!"

"We weren't using condoms because she was on the Pill, but something went wrong and -" Ron interrupts, shaking his head.

"Christ Draco, didn't you know? The only way to prevent soul-mate pregnancy's is about five condoms at once. Why do you think there are so many Weasleys?" It's my turn to choke.

"Good God. How many kids…"

"Dunno. Use many condoms, many charms and the Pill, and you can control it. Talk to my mum - she'll know."

"There was something else- well, two other things. One: you are sworn to secrecy! Nothing is to be said until we are ready."

"Of course."

"And, normally, I'd ask her father- but I obviously can't. I want to ask for your permission to ask Hermione to marry me. And I want you to help me choose the ring."

"Draco, we -"

"This is -"

"Please?"

"Yes, you can ask her to marry you. And yes, we'll help you chose the ring. Ron, you've got a couple of Muggle catalogues for Argos, yes? And I've got one for a very nice private Muggle jeweller. And you'll have wizarding ones?"

"Yeah."

"Then, gentlemen, to business. Summoning charms?"

HPOV

Ginny drops into the seat opposite and smiles.

"Going by the expression on your face you had a damn good night with Draco last night?" I smile back. Ginny knows - if only because she walked through the door of a classroom we happened to be occupying at the time.

"I had a very good night, thank you. Draco is with Harry and Ron, talking things over, man to man. I keep expecting somebody to come and fetch me because there's been a duel or something."

"Don't worry, I doubt it will happen. They're all far too scared of the wrath you would call down upon them if they were to do so. And, as your highly intuitive best friend I sense there is Big News."

"Well, err, I suppose…in a way…sort of huge…"

"Hermione!"

"I'msortofgoingtohaveababy…"

"I didn't quite catch that, Hermione."

"I'm pregnant."

"Holy…"

"Draco and I are soul mates. We found out the hard way that the Muggle Pill doesn't stop soul mate pregnancy's." Ginny sits back and regards me thoughtfully.

"What are you going to do?"

"Accept it, plan for the birth, tell Draco's father, tell the staff - and at some point tell the school."

"And Harry and Ron?" "Draco is letting them know. Ginny, I know I barely even have to ask, but please, not one single, solitary word about any of this may pass your lips."

"I swear. What are you going to say to McGonagall?"

"Well, I'm not telling McGonagall. Draco is. I'm going to tell Snape."

"Why?!"

"Because if Draco told Snape, or if he was even present when Snape found out, Snape would kill him. You know how protective he is."

"Touché. But what if McGonagall reacts the same way?"

"She won't, she's too professional. Snape is more emotional."

DPOV

I take a big breath before I knock on the door of McGonagall's office. Please let her be out. Please don't let her be there.

"Come in!" Oh god… "Ah, Mr Malfoy. Take a seat. Can I help you?"

"I've got to tell you something, Professor." She raises her eyebrows.

"Is it something I should sit down for?"

"Yes, Professor. I think that would be best." I wait for her to re-take her seat. She folds her hands and looks at me. "It's about Hermione."

"Ah, Miss Granger. I'm glad you two are friends."

"We're not friends, Professor. We're more than that."

"Mr Malfoy, what exactly is it you are telling me here?"

"What do you know of soul-mates, Professor?"

"Not a great deal, I'm afraid. They're so incredibly rare. The last confirmed soul-mate union of the Wizarding world was Molly and Arthur Weasley. Why?"

"Because myself and Hermione are soul-mates. She did research after something happened when we first…consummated our relationship. We both felt a funny sensation in our magic. Apparently they fused - tying us together until death does us part."

"So what you are essentially saying is that you and Miss Granger are soul-mates? Well, Draco, whilst I'm very happy for you both, I really fail to see why you felt such a burning need to come and see me. And I don't understand why I had to sit -"

"She's pregnant Professor. We didn't plan it, and we didn't realise that it is so difficult to prevent soul-mate pregnancies. We felt - we knew - that the staff would have to be told, because she will be showing soon, and, obviously, precautions will have to be taken -"

"She's what, boy?"

"Pregnant, Professor."

"Good God. Well, you were right to tell me. I will inform the staff of Miss Granger's condition, and she will have to stop some activities. Care Of Magical Creatures will have to stop - the magical creatures get so jumpy when soul-mates are expecting. Professor Snape will be able to tell you what Hermione can and can't do." She looks at me sharply suddenly, but a smile spoils the effect. "I am assuming, Mr Malfoy, that seeing as Miss Granger is not present, that she has decided to inform Professor Snape of this…development?"

"Yes, Professor," I say, grinning. "She thought that Professor Snape would not react kindly to hearing the news from my mouth."

"She always was very intelligent. Well, Mr Malfoy, I suppose you and I should discuss what Miss Granger will and will not consent to stop doing."

HPOV

"Professor? Professor Snape?"

"Ah, Miss Granger," he said, less than a foot behind me. I jump, and press my hand to my heart.

"Goodness, Professor. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you."

"I had managed to work that out for myself, Miss Granger, seeing as you are here, in my dungeons whilst the rest of the school is outside, enjoying the sun."

"Perhaps, Professor, you ought sit down," I say, bracing myself for the task ahead. He sweeps past me and sits down at his desk, motioning me to the chair before it.

"Well, Miss Granger. Tell me what all this nonsense is. It isn't every time a student comes to see me that they tell me I ought sit down."

"Professor, there's something I must tell you about myself and Draco Malfoy."

"Oh, yes, the shock friendship that has so scandalised my House."

"It's more than just friendship, Professor. Draco and I - well, we are soul-mates. And before you ask, I'm certain. Our magic has Bonded."

"Soul-mates? Really? How very shocked the school will be to find out that the Slytherin snake has irreversibly allied himself with the Gryffindor lioness. But why does this news require me to sit down? I can assure you, Miss Granger, that in my time at Hogwarts, I have heard it all and then some -"

"I'm pregnant. I'm carrying Draco's child." His face goes purple. I worry about his health. "Professor, are you well?"

"Hermione, please tell me you didn't -"

"We didn't plan it Professor. Apparently soul-mate pregnancies are very difficult to prevent. We never meant -"

"I'll kill him."

"You will do no such thing Professor. Draco is telling Professor McGonagall as we speak, and I'm positive she would disapprove if you barged in wanting Draco's life. And I would be very upset."

"Then we need to go and see them, do we not? Your activities will, after all, be greatly restricted."

Greatly restricted, I discover afterwards, is an understatement. Care of Magical Creatures is a definite no-no, unless I really want to cause a magical creature rampage, because they get too protective when a soul-mate pregnancy comes within fifty metres. Physical Transfiguration: no. No way in Hell. Charms: anything that would require physical contact is out. So I can produce a water fountain if I want. Defence: Duelling practice is out. Basic lessons, this is OK. I can cast, just not receive any spell whatsoever. Potions: apparently, there will be a few I can't brew, because the pregnancy vibes upset the balance. Herbology: depends on the plant.

"This is your fault," I grumble to Draco when we're getting ready for bed that night.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You're the one who didn't wear a condom."

"Well, you didn't exactly protest." I wait until the lights are out and he's settled down with one arm cuddling me securely.

"Still your fault." He laughs quietly.

"Go to sleep, Princess."

We go down to breakfast, bickering quietly about where on the Astronomy Tower is the best place to spot Venus. This isn't an act: we genuinely disagree on this one. We know the second we walk into the Great Hall that there's something wrong. A tiny first year rushes up to us and thrusts a sheaf of photographs into my hands, before running back to join his friends. Ginny appears at my side.

"Everybody had these envelopes delivered by owl this morning. When we opened them - you need to look at them, both of you." We bend our heads over the photographs. They're all of us. They start innocently: us talking, perhaps with our heads a little close together, but just friends. Us brewing a Potion together, arguing about something: our body language betrays us. And then we're holding hands in the next one, running together, laughing, holding hands firmly. And something in our faces as our eyes meet when we stop tells everyone that this isn't just two good friends holding onto each other. Lying under out tree, me in his arms, him stroking my hair. Kissing my forehead. Kissing under our tree. Kissing _inside_ our room. My jaw sets at that, and I frown. Outside is understandable. But _in_ our rooms? A shot of Draco's room, him unbuttoning my blouse, slipping it off my shoulders, kissing my neck, whispering in my ear. And then a full-colour, detailed action-shot of us making love. My face is contorted in ecstasy, he has his head thrown back, driving into me, dropping down to kiss me. The blood rushes to my head. Sheer fury sweeps through me. God help the photographer. And then, then his hand on my stomach, my tummy glowing red, and words appearing: "She's PREGNANT!"

I stay absolutely still and silent for a full minute. The entire Great Hall watches us with bated breath. Clearly, what was so funny without us present, is no longer so hysterical. I glance sideways at Draco. His perfect face is flushed with rage, his eyebrows are practically meeting in the middle. His eyes have darkened to the colour of storm clouds. I open my mouth, but he gets in first.

"Whoever took these pictures: and I don't care how they did it - whoever is responsible, or if anybody knows who took them, they have an hour to give themselves up. Myself and Hermione will be in the Head Girl and Boy's quarters. If nobody comes, not one person will go to Hogsmede until I find out who. And be assured that I will find out who it was. Punishment will be less severe if the person or persons responsible owns up. And please don't lie to me. Bear in mind that we are both very accomplished Legilimens and we will know if you're lying." He takes my hand and leads me away. He is shaking with fury. I am no better.

After fifty minutes, there is a knock.

"Enter." Draco's voice is deadly quiet. I would be shaking in my shoes if I were on the other side of that portrait. To my shock, Ginny clambers through the portrait hole. She holds up her hands before Draco can start.

"It wasn't me. I just thought you guys might like some support."

"Do you know who it was?"

"I have an idea: but it's suspicion, _not_ proof."

"Who?" Draco asks, fury evident in his tones.

"Blaise," she whispers softly. "At dinner last night - he said he had a way to bring you both down, to ruin you - expose you. I didn't know what he meant, and to be honest, I wasn't really listening: only he was talking so loudly it was hard to miss."

"It would make sense for it to be Blaise. He doesn't like me, and he's never made a secret of the fact. He disapproves of our relationship." I say, quietly.

"Are you really going to stop them all from going to Hogsmede if nobody owns up?" Ginny asks Draco.

"Yes. Whoever it was invaded our privacy. I wouldn't mind half as much if it was just the ones of us outside, kissing. We should learn to be more discreet. But for them to take pictures in here, and of us making love…" He trails off, and I get the feeling that he's speechless.

"The hour is up, Draco. We have McGonagall's permission to gather them all in the Hall to talk to them. I suggest, my darling, that we go." I get to my feet. I'm an inch away from the portrait hole when there is a knock. This knock is loud and confident. "Come in." The Portrait swings open. Professor Snape is standing there. "Ah, Professor. Come in," Draco says. He arches an eyebrow. "You haven't come to confess have you?"

"Don't be ridiculous." He sweeps into the room. "I'm here to tell you that if you are going to talk to the students, can you hurry up? I want to get out of this infernal castle even if you don't."

"We aren't keeping you here," I point out. "You are free to go at any time."

"I am not. Whilst the privacy of my godson and his soul mate is invaded thus, I too wish to find the culprit. I also need a Fire-whiskey, so could we get a move on?" he demands, impatiently. Draco smiles.

"Hermione -"

"Cupboard." Draco accio's a bottle of Fire-whiskey and pours Snape a measure. He also pours himself one. Both Ginny and I decline.

The Great Hall is silent.

"Let me do the talking," I say to Draco, firmly. I face the sea of faces staring up at us both. "I am furious about all this. To think that one or more of you had the sheer cheek to invade our privacy, to take pictures of the most private of things, and then not even have the courage to own up. All this is the work of a despicable coward. Only cowards refuse to own up when the punishment for their actions will affect their peers. Only a coward would sit now in silence." I meet Blaise's eyes. "Own up within the next three seconds - and I have no quarrel with the innocent, and they may go off to Hogsmede. But whilst I cannot separate the innocent from the guilty, then I am afraid the punishment must apply to all."

"Oh for Gods' sake, Granger, you know it was me! Both of you know it was me." Blaise stands up and walks up to us. "I did it, OK?"

"Zabini, you will come with me now, to the Headmistress." Snape snarls. Blaise shakes him off and glowers at me.

"I only did it because she's some filthy Mudblood whore. I only did it because she's nothing but a slut."

"Walk away now, Blaise, and I will pretend you never said that." Draco levels his wand at the man he once called friend. "Go with Professor Snape now, and I will pretend that you never called her a whore." They look at each other for a split second. Then Blaise turns and walks away. I take Draco's hand.

"I'm sorry." He squeezes my hand gently.

"Don't be."

**_NINE MONTHS LATER._**

DPOV

"Let me see my little god-daughter!" Ginny shrieks as quietly as possible as she bursts into the hospital wing and spots me cradling a tiny bundle in my arms. "Let me see!"

"Shhh, Ginny, for Merlin's sake! You'll wake my girls up." She bends over me and coos softly as I show her the tiny sleeping face of my daughter.

"Ohhhhhh, Draco, she's adorable! Let me hold her!" I put the bundle into Ginny's arms just as Hermione rouses up.

"Hey beautiful." I whisper, brushing a tendril of hair from her face.

"Hey. Where's my daughter, then?"

"Ginny stole her. You'll be lucky to ever get her back."

"If Hermione is awake, of course she can hold her baby." Ginny gives Hermione her daughter and grins at us. "I'm going to go and let Harry and Ron know that all is well. I don't think Ron has any thumbnails left: he's been biting them for hours. What are you going to name her?" I look down at Hermione and grin.

"Shall we tell her, Princess?"

"Do. But Ginny, tell only Harry and Ron. We'll make the official announcement."

"Of course, of course! Come on, I'm dying to know!"

"We're going to call her Anna. Her middle name will be Grace."

"Anna Grace… well, what about her surname?"

"Malfoy."

"Anna Grace Malfoy. I like it. Hermione, you aren't going to stick your surname in there? Double-barrel it?"

"God, no. Anna Grace Malfoy-Granger? No way in hell. She will be Anna Grace Malfoy. And besides," here Hermione blushes purple, but carries on. "I won't be Granger for much longer." She holds her left hand out for inspection. Ginny shrieks with delight and then dashes off to convey all sorts of happy news to Harry and Ron. Hermione looks down at the baby in her arms who has just opened beautiful blue eyes and is staring up at me. I kiss her forehead. And then I kiss Hermione.

"I love you."

"Love you too."

**_A/N: Well now, wasn't that mushy. God I have been working on this for months. I am not turning this into anything longer than a one-shot. Albeit a very long one shot, but still. That's it. No more. I will write other Hermione/Draco stories, but this is it for this one. _**

**_PLEASE REVIEW!!!! Reviewers get a kiss from Draco ; )_**

**_PS: No similarities between this work and any other was intended. I know there are loads of Hermione/Draco/baby/secret relationship whatsit stories out there, but I wanted to write one. Hope everybody liked it!!_**


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